One
by kiminitodoke
Summary: I hate ten. It was ten at night when it happened. It was a ten percent chance of rain, and yet, it was pouring. Ten is the number that you love. Well, the number one is my favorite because you are the one for me.
1. Ten

Hello! I promised a sequel, and this will be one. Kind of. I never wrote a sequel so bear with me! Hope you guys like. Request, review, and enjoy! (The future chapters will have the future. Don't worry about it being just in the past).

I would like to say that our first meeting ended with smiles. It didn't. Smiling was the farthest of what I wanted to do or did. No, our first encounter resulted in you being in an unconscious state and I crying over you till my eyes lost all their moisture.

I should have let that puppy there. That way, I wouldn't have been on that street. I wouldn't have been going to the pet store to get some formula for the abandoned pup. I wouldn't have been there at all, and maybe you wouldn't have ended up like this. Maybe you would have been just fine without seeing me.

But you did. See me, that is. You should have let it hit me. I would have died but right now, riding the ambulance to the hospital, observing the E.M.T. try to resuscitate your heart, I would rather be dead. You are flat-lining, and the longer I hear that noise, the closer I am to breaking. After charging the defibrillator to 1500 volts, your heart picks up. I do not realize that I had been holding my breath until that moment your chest moves by itself. I am forced to notice my lack of oxygen when I faint.

I wake up in a bed. I move my head to the side. My parents are there, and once they see my eyes open, they stand and move over to me. They bombard me with questions and worries, but I don't pay attention to any of it. The only thing on my mind is you. And I tell them. I ask them where you are, and they tell me you are in the ICU. As those words enter my head, I try to lift myself from the bed but stop because of the pain that comes from jostling the equipment embedded in my skin.

I plead with them to let me go and see you, but they resist. They say that I might have a concussion, but I know you have it much worst so I insist. My voice must have risen because a nurse comes in to check on me. She looks nice, so I beg her to just let me go to you. Just for a few minutes. Just to check if you are alright. Just to ease my sorrow. Just to see if you are alive.

She relents after I start crying again. She helps me into a wheelchair, and she pushes me to where you are. It takes only a short while until I am faced with a window. The nurse offers her hand, so I can rise from the seat. When I am on my two feet, I look in front of me. I start crying even more.

You look horrible. Bandages and wires all over you. You are bruised and broken, and it is my entire fault. I say to the nurse that I am going inside your room, but she gently tells me no. I want to ask why, but I think I know when I see your parents next you. Why would they want to see the one that caused their precious son to become like this? They wouldn't, so I leave.

I go back to my room. My mom and dad are still with me, but I want to be alone. I request my favorite sweet, and because I am in such a state, they oblige, stating that they will be gone for only a little while. I don't care. Not really. Because the only thing I cared about at that moment is you. You, who pulled me out of harm's way. You, who gave up your life for mine. You, who rescued me, a stranger.

That night, I fall asleep with a mantra playing in my thoughts. Three words that I felt with my whole being. Four syllables that made my eyes well up with more tears. Eight letters that I plan to tell you the second our gazes interlock.

I am sorry.


	2. Nine

Guys! You all make me so happy! A little love for this, and I hope it gains more. Heart of a Bachelor is doing well! Eight reviews for last chapter! Yea! Request, review, and enjoy!

It is too soon to visit, but here I am, standing in front of your door with the dessert my parents bought for me last night. I am a little afraid to step inside, so I remain loitering outside your room until someone touches my shoulder. It's your mom.

"Hello there, sweetie. Is there something you need?" Her eyes are puffy and red, but she still looks beautiful. Despite your injuries, she is radiating kindness, but I don't think she would wear that same smile if she knew the truth about me. My eyes water.

"Umm…I had some cake, and I…I thought you might like some," I fib. It's not like I didn't want her to have the treat, but my true intentions is to get closer to you. I need to see you up close to squash this distressed bubble that is occupying my stomach.

"Oh, how kind! I would love a piece, if you don't mind. Come inside," she gestures for me to enter, and I do with little hesitation. In fact, I almost sprint to your side. I hope she doesn't find my behavior suspicious.

You look worse than I thought. Your face is discolored with bruises. Your chest is bandaged while pillows prop up your leg. Yet, with all the things wrong with you, you still maintain your handsomeness. You are truly a prince. Unfortunately, you did not save a princess, but a peasant.

A throat clears behind me. I turn, trying to keep my hands steady because I don't want it to fall on the ground. Your mom is staring at me for some reason. I smile at her in nervousness, and she returns it as she steps in my direction.

She walks past me and sits beside you. With her fingertips, she brushes your hair away from your face and leans in to kiss your forehead. She looks back at me. "Do you know Sebastian? You seem to be quite worried about him." I am, but no, I don't know your son or anything about him except for the fact that he saved my life. But I don't tell her that. I couldn't, not yet.

"No. I just…heard from the nurses that he risked his life to save someone, and well," I stop, not having a valid explanation for my actions.

"Ah, I didn't realize that people are gossiping about him already. A little hero, isn't he?" She says, her voice shaking in both admiration and sadness. I can tell she is proud of you, but I know she would have rather you be in better conditions. I nod at her. "You know, he has always been this type of person. Trying to help people in the best way that he can. That is one of the reasons why he wants to be a lawyer. He wants justice for the people who need it."

By this time, she is dabbing at her eyes. I place the cake on the table, grabbing a tissue and handing it over to her. She thanks me. "I don't even know why I am reacting like this. You must think I am silly!" I shake my head. "The doctors said that he is in a coma, and that the chances of him waking up is high. It's just…I'm scared that he might not."

She is not my mother, but I give her a hug anyways. I think that if you were awake, you would be comforting her, so in your stead, I will do it. She seems a tad shocked, but she accepts my embrace.

"It's you, isn't it?" She quietly inquires. My limbs ice over. "You are the person he saved, right?" My limbs defrost, and I try to retreat from her, but her next words stop me. "I'm glad. It's seems that my son has good judgment." I pull away from her and give her a confused gaze. "I know my son would have saved anyone, but he rescued you, a good kid." I blush at her compliment.

"I am hardly a good person. Just look at him," I disagree as I hold back my tears.

"Honey, I'm sure that you are. Now, let's open that cake! I'm starving." She stands from her chair. "I'm going to go ask for some plates and forks. You wait here." She leaves the room, a little more upbeat than when I first saw her.

I take the vacant seat next to you. I reach out and carefully hold your hand. It's warm, and it is a strong reassurance to me because it means that you are still living. You mom is petrified that you won't wake up, but I don't want to think those kind of thoughts. The only thing that I am concerned about is not if you are going to wake from your comatose state, but when.

I can hear the creak of the door as it opens, so I let your hand go. I let you go, but I am not **letting** you go. Because after my apology, there is something else I want to say. Something that is going to sound cheesy and weird, but I am going to tell it to you anyhow. Something that is going to make my cheeks red.

Thank you, my princely hero.


	3. Eight

Request granted! Short like always. Sorrrrryyyy! Anyways, review, request, and enjoy!

It has been two weeks since your accident, and each day, we are here, by your side. Your father waits here with his newspaper that he pretends to read as he peeks over it to watch you. Your mother waits here, picking at the pastry or sugary treat I brought for the day while she holds your hand. I wait here, trying to focus on completing my homework assignment only to be sidetracked by you. You, who is still in a deep rest.

It is strange being so close and yet so far from you. I can hear you breathe, but the way we are, we might as well be miles apart. I am happy though, that I am allowed to be next you. Even if we all sit in you room now, your dad didn't exactly welcome me when he found out the truth. He loves you, and if it were any other kind of circumstance, I am sure he wouldn't have tried to harm me. But he was so tired and worried and distressed that when your mother introduced me three days after your hospitalization, he blew up. He didn't put his hands on me. He just threw the cheesecake at the wall and yelled at me to leave. Of course, after he calmed down with the help of your mom, he invited me back. You know, if he were to really ban me, I wouldn't listen. I would sneak in if I had to. I think if the situation were to be reversed, you would do anything in your power to see me, right?

Your bruises have faded. I am glad because I can see how handsome you truly are. You still have bandages, and your scars will be etched on your skin for a long time, if not forever, but to me, you are fetching.

"Staring at him again, Ciel?" The nurse, Meyrin, teases. She is now a friend of mine. She takes good care of you with the help of Bard and Finnian, two male nurses.

"I…No." I lie, blushing. I have an hour to myself with you before your parents get off from work. They would miss, but as teachers, they can only afford to miss so much. And yes, I do tend to keep my eyes on you a little too often than what people would deem as normal, but it is comforting to see the movement of your chest as you take in oxygen.

"Why are you lying? We both know that you are." She walks over to us, and I have to let your hand go so she can check your medication levels. "Okay, I am all done. You can go back to your hand holding."

"I wasn't holding his hand!" I protest. "I was just…checking his pulse."

"Uh huh. I totally believe you. Not like there is machine that beeps every time his heart beats." She rolls her eyes. "Well, you can go back to 'checking his pulse'." She laughs as she closes the door. I do until your mom and dad enters the room. Then I move to serve them lemon squares.

"Mmm! These are good. You have an eye for sweets, don't you?" Your mom asks. I nod. "By the time Sebastian wakens, I am going to be twenty pounds overweight!"

"You don't have to eat them, dear," your dad advises as he eats. She makes a face at him. We all laugh.

"If I don't, you will have all of them yourself. Plus, Ciel went out of his way to pick this out for us. I can't just not eat them," she justifies. "I wonder if you are going to guess Sebastian's favorite dessert."

"But you said he doesn't really like sweet things."

"He doesn't, but there is one item that he loves. It is really surprising, too, because it is not what you'd expect a future lawyer to like. But I'm not going to tell you what it is. I want to see if you can figure it out."

"What happens if I can't?" I look over to you.

"You can ask him later." Your dad chips in.

I agree to their proposition. It will be fun trying to guess what you like by myself instead of being told by your parents. It would be nice if you could tell me, but I will wait patiently for you. And not just because I feel guilty. I do, and try as I might, it lurks in my mind each time I think of you or when I see your dad fake a yawn to have an excuse to wipe his eyes or when I see your mom stuffing her face to the fullest to hold back a sob. So yes, it is guilt that keeps me here, but there is another reason why I **want** to be here. It's silly but true. Just six little words: I have a crush on you.


	4. Seven

A surprise next chapter so review and enjoy!

Today, I am uncomfortable. I shouldn't be, but as I scramble to take off my jacket, I am. How you manage to make me so flustered while in a coma, I don't know. Actually, I do know the reason, and I am glad that no one is here with us. Glad to be the only one to see what is happening to you.

I should take this as a good sign that maybe you are starting to wake up. If your body is reacting this way, it must mean something. But why did it have to be this? Why do you have 'that' and why are you making 'those' sounds? Why?

I remember your doctor saying that you are in a level II coma, meaning that you are capable of making unaware movements and noises, but this response seems a little unexpected. A little abnormal. Not to mention embarrassing.

I wish you were awake so I can ask why you are in this state. So you can tell me what kind of dream you are having, or if you are not having one at all. If you are dreaming, who is it about? Your parents never said you had someone special in your life, but you are in college. You wouldn't tell them of your one night stands or sexual adventures, but are they the ones you are dreaming about to cause you to be like this?

With no answer, I put my jacket over you, covering what needs to be covered. I am hoping that it will go away by tomorrow because your parents will be coming. I am glad that they have a mandatory workshop out of town because no matter how close you are to them, you would not want them to see 'that'.

I don't think I should be here with you. I think I might a danger to you, at the moment. I think I should leave, but I don't move. I keep my eyes on you. On your face, which is difficult because my eyes really have a mind of their own and there is only one sight they are hungry for. And I feel like such a pervert as I hear your voice. And I feel disgusted with myself as I breakout in a sweat. I feel like my crush on you is becoming unhealthy. I am becoming sick.

My coat is not doing what it is supposed to. It is supposed to hide 'it' from anyone's vision and especially from me, but it falls flat, and it is just as useless as your blanket. But I keep it there because I don't think I can remove it now or never. I'll just wait until you wake up to give it back to me. We will call it a loan of some sort. You're welcome.

I hear a knock, and I jump from the chair next to you and rush to block the door. Afraid that it might be Meyrin. Or anyone else with eyes. But I am second to late, and someone steps in, and though I would rather have no one but me see you right now, I am a bit relieved that it is Finnian, a male.

"Hey, Ciel! Just came to check on you two. How is he doing?" He good-naturedly asks, but I can't respond like I usually do. I can't make jokes like we always do. I can't so instead, I go over to sit next to you, trying to build my jacket up but not in a suspicious way so he doesn't notice. He does. "Why did you put that on him?" Without pause, he reaches for it, but I slap his hand away.

"Don't remove it." I warn as menacingly as I can manage, but I am five foot six inches kid so I think I come off as a plea. It works because he backs away from us.

"Why?" His face is serious, and it gives off a wrong feeling. He is all smiles, but because of my actions of defending your pride, I matured his childlike face in an instant.

I shake my head, not because I don't want to answer him but because the words won't form in my head. Because it is hard to breathe, let alone speak. But he takes it as me being insubordinate and snatches the jacket from you.

"Oh." Is all he says and he flings it back to original position. His blush mirrors mine. "That is why. Umm…This can happen, so don't be worried or anything. He is probably responding to internal stimulus, and I am sure it will go down." His voice is all professional.

"Does this mean something good?" I finally get the ability to speak.

"Not necessarily. Patients such as Sebastian inconsistently and without purpose react to stimuli in a non-specific manner. It does not indicate if he is any closer to coming out of his coma." My head falls down in disappointment. "I know that is not what you want to hear, but you wouldn't want me to give you false hope, right?" I reluctantly nod. "Ciel, he will wake up. It has only been three weeks." He then finishes his check-up and exits.

So now I am back to where I started. Alone with you and your problem. Alone with thoughts that a hormonal teenager would have. And I'm sorry for that. And I'm sorry that I am mad at you. And I'm sorry that I am jealous of this unknown person who has this effect on you. Who can affect you both in your unconscious and conscious world. You must love her a lot, right?


	5. Six

Next chapter will be the real epilogue, so review and enjoy! Working Heart of a Bachelor, but for some reason, I am having a hard time starting the chapter. Maybe support will give me a boost?

It is day 23, and there has been no change. Well, that is not the complete truth. You have been frowning more. It is small, but your eyebrows are creasing. It looks like you are in pain, but your charts don't register it as if you are. Your parents and I can't argue with your doctors, but when tears start to gather in the corner of your eyes, we become increasingly more persistent that something is wrong. However, our only options are to just let it pass, like with your other reaction, or for you to wake. I don't like any of them because I can feel that you are hurting, so much so that I have given up on keeping my touching to a minimum. Now, when school lets out, I rush to your side, and I hold your hand in front of your parents. And I only care a little about what they might be thinking. Until your mother starts her teasing a few days later.

"Ciel, shouldn't you buy him dinner first?" She asks while she chews on the strawberry filled pastry I brought. I blush at her comment, but I try my best to ignore it. I can't let her get to me.

"Honey, leave the boy alone. He is just worried about our son," your dad defends me. I don't think he realizes what I feel for you yet, and I don't know how he might take it when he finds out. He doesn't seem like he is intolerant, but you are his only child so it could go either way.

"Oh, he knows I'm just kidding. Right, Ciel?" I nod, and she giggles. "It would be nice if you two got along, though."

"I'm sure that they will," he chimes in, reassuring your mom and me. I hope that you and I will, at the least, be friends. I know you are a few years older than me, but I am mature for my age. And if I am really hoping for something, it would be that you might develop feelings for me.

"My son is very stubborn. You have to be patient with him," she advices, and I laugh at how she is describing you. You sound like you are a handful. "I'm serious. He is a charmer, which works in his favor for when he is a lawyer, but boy, does he overdo it. I think you might fall in love with him when he wakens."

"Hey! You make him sound like a gentleman escort," your dad scoffs. But there is something behind what you mom is saying. You do look like someone who attracts others without a try. I mean, look at me. You already occupy my mind, and we haven't even technically met.

"If the shoe fits…" We all chuckle. It is nice being like this. It makes us not on edge when you start to release sounds of anguish. It makes us able to breathe.

My phone buzzes. It is probably a message from my mother to hurry home and eat dinner. "I've gotta go." They both nod. "Tomorrow, I am going to be a little late. I have an appointment with my adviser, but I will be here."

"Okay. We will see you then." She waves goodbye as I open the door. I don't think I am supposed to hear her next words. "Tomorrow, it'll be a month without our baby." I close the door as she softly whimpers.

There is a saying that "you can't miss what you never had", but I don't think that is true because I miss you. I don't even know you, but I feel empty. It is going to be a month, but it feels like a year. I can't even imagine how your parents must feel. To have you unresponsive and unreachable.

The next day, as I said, I am late. I have to decide which college I might attend, and I admit you are swaying my decision about where I am going. I shouldn't want to just go to a school that has you, but the desire is there. Maybe it will change later, but I doubt it.

When I walk in, your parents aren't around, which is strange. I move closer to you, and I see that you are crying again. But this time, it is different. It is more heartbreaking. It is causing my eyes to fill with tears and concern. When I hear a sob, I cup your cheek like I have done in the past. Like I have been doing for the last week, but just as your sadness is different, this moment is as well. Because you open your eyes.

How is it possible for me to fall more for you just by your eyes? How is it possible that just by one glance I feel like I know you? Like I can't live without you? How? You don't answer me in words, but in action as you, despite your numerous injuries, hold me. The emotions I feel are so overpowering that in your arms, I cry. I press my face into your neck and let out everything I have been bottling up. I can't keep my own sob in anymore because you are awake. You are here with me. You are alive.

You lead my head back, and our faces are both covered in tears, but we smile. I take in everything I couldn't see when you were in your coma. Your beautiful, unique eyes that resemble aging roses. Your eye-smile. Your dimples. Your warmth.

I must be deeply captivated by your looks that I don't hear someone coming inside. Though really, I probably can't concentrate on anything when you hand is rubbing my skin.

"Mr. Michaelis! No one told me you were awake! I am so happy!" Meyrin exclaims as she comes next to us. She makes no attempt to cover her wide smirk as she spots the position we are in. "And it looks like Ciel has made his move. I didn't know you moved this quick." She oozes satisfaction since she has now definite proof that I like you. She pats my head, and I feel faint as the blood fills the upper part of my body. I move out of your arms, thinking that maybe some distance between us will make her stop her grinning.

"Ciel?" I turn to you, and my blush gets worse. I know because your voice is doing weird things to me. If my ears could talk, they would be begging you to say more. My heart feels like it grew. I don't feel faint anymore. I feel like I have been electrocuted in the greatest way.

You don't hear my inner plea. You just stare at me. Your eyes reflect fleeting emotions, until you settle on one that I can't name. I don't have time to analyze either because you grab my hand and pull it until you are able to press a kiss on my palm. Then you move my hand down, and you put it on your covered chest. Right above your heart that is beating quickly. But yours doesn't even compare to mine when you beam up at me.

Sebastian, help me. I think I'm getting sick. I think my crush is no longer a crush.


	6. Five

Hello! I have been updating more quickly than usual, huh? Yea! Sebastian is awake. Ciel is too. Things are getting real! Review and enjoy!

"I am sorry." It is the first thing I blurt out when Meyrin leaves us alone. It is what I wanted to say, and once it is in the open, I feel like I can let go of some of the guilt I carry in my heart. But it is just some, not all. I don't know when I will be able to truly forgive myself for making you like this. Maybe I won't, and I am fine with that.

You don't accept my apology, which is understandable. Then you give me a smile, and I think you might be a little loopy from your coma because, otherwise, why would you show me that knee-buckling sight? Then you point at your lips, and I am more dumbfounded than before. Are you asking for a kiss? Why would you want something like that so soon or at all? I'm not ready. I have not prepared myself, but if that is what you want, I will do it. I'll do anything you ask because I owe you my life. I begin to lean in slowly.

And then I hear your enthralling laughter, and I snap back to my original position. I am conflicted with two choices. One is to stay here and listen to the sound that is coming out of your mouth. The other is to run and hide in embarrassment. I think I am leaning more to the second option until you speak to me. Not about me, but to me, and I have to tell myself to breathe.

"Ciel, could you get me a glass of water with a straw? For some reason, I am thirsty." My name passes your lips for the second time, and there is something special in the way you say it. It is different. It makes me feel precious.

I walk, albeit shakily, to pour some water for you. I return and carefully hand it to you. You start drinking water through the straw while looking at me. Why are you staring at me? What does that strange glint in your eyes mean? Maybe I should try to actually ask you my questions out loud instead of in my head. Here I go.

"I like you!" Well, that's not it. And completely unexpected for the both of us. You show it as you start choking a little on your drink. I, on the other hand, don't do it as subtly as you do. I turn on my heel and try to make a dash out of your room.

"Wait!" You wheeze out, and I stop with my hand on the handle. "What did you just say?" What? You want me to repeat it? No way.

"Thank You. I said, 'thank you'." I hope that you will believe me, or at least take pity on me and just go with my answer. Please. But with a shake of your head, I know you won't let me off so easy. I guess your mom was right when she said you would be a handful.

"I don't think so, Ciel."

"That is what I meant to say." Drop it. I beg of you.

You tilt your head, and it appears that you are having an inner monologue with yourself for a second. You decide on something with a nod to yourself, and it must be in my favor, as you don't press on. "Okay, so what are you so thankful for?"

"You know. For saving me." You purse your lips and then wave me over. I go and sit on the chair closet to you.

"Do you wanna hear a story?" You don't want for me to respond. You grab my hand like you had before, expect this time, you entwine our fingers. "Once upon a time…" I open my mouth. "Sh. Don't interrupt me, Ciel. I think you will like this tale." You breathe. "So once upon a time, there was this man. He was walking in the rain at night. He is not the type who would go out for a stroll, but he had gotten this urge so he went. He was going to no definite place, so he wasn't paying attention to where he was. But there was something that caught his eye. Rather, someone. It was a boy. That boy was standing alone as he crossed the street." I try to pull away from you, but you hold my hand tightly. "And there was a car coming straight at him. The man, for no reason at all, runs to save the boy, and he does. But he pays a price. He goes into a coma."

"Stop. Sebastian, please." I don't want to hear more. You don't.

"Now, that man doesn't know he is unconscious. He believes that he is awake. Doesn't even realize that he had been hit by a car. So he goes on believing that his life is reality. He goes to school and talk to others just like how he would if he were conscious. Everything is normal. Until that boy starts appearing." You grin at me as I furrow my eyebrows. "Right off the bat, the man didn't like the boy," I unknowingly start to pout. "because he was so weird. So out of place from everybody else. And before the man knew, he was searching for the boy. The boy who didn't talk and who repelled people." You break our eye contact to look at our hands. "The man grew desperate to be with the seemingly mute boy, and he didn't really know why. Then, suddenly, he did, but that boy started to become more unattainable to him until the only way the man saw the other was by a never-ending dream that was more like a nightmare." You stare into my eyes. "That man wakes up from that nightmare." You don't continue.

"That's it?" I'm slightly disappointed and more than confused with your retelling of the events that occurred.

"Of course, not. But I'm afraid that this story does not have an ending just yet. I'll tell you later, though, okay?" You promise. If that fairy tale is our story, then that means…you want me to be besides you so we can finish it?

"Why did the man want to see the boy?" That part stood out the most. I clench our hands while I wait for your reply.

You mentioned that I was somewhat mute in your hallucination, but right now, it seems you have a talking problem. But I am thankful because your answer comes in a form of a kiss. And I am glad that you think actions speak louder than words because I get your message loud and clear.

Fairy tales always have happy endings, right?


End file.
